


Infinite Ways to Love You

by layalee



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Amused Diggle, Attempt at Humor, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Nut allergy, Overwatch - Freeform, POV Felicity Smoak, Protective Oliver, Sassy Felicity Smoak, Season/Series 02, badass Felicity, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-10-29 05:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10847256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/layalee/pseuds/layalee
Summary: A drabble collection in which Oliver and Felicity reveal how much they love each other, without ever actually saying those precious, three little words.





	1. No Nuts!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a drabble collection, so each chapter won't relate to the previous one. They're short one-shots that show how much Oliver and Felicity care about each other and how they show their feelings without actually confessing them.
> 
> If anyone has any prompts or ideas they'd like to see, I'm open to suggestions!
> 
> Arrow and its characters and plot belong to DC and the CW. No copyright infringement intended.

 

It was wildly known in the Arrow Cave that Felicity was allergic to nuts. Ever since she revealed it to the guys early on in their partnership, they’ve been careful to keep any foodstuff with nuts in it far far away from her. Sometimes, though, they went a little overboard. And by _they_ , she meant Oliver.

Felicity had only been with the team for a couple of months when she found the first hiding spot. She was trying to clear out a space for her on the shelves at the back of the foundry, where each member kept some of their things, like extra clothes and such. It was while she was doing that that she accidentally knocked over and dropped a translucent green box on the floor. Groaning at her clumsiness, she bent down to pick it up, only to see the lid had come off.

She picked up the lid, which had skittered a couple of feet away, but before she secured it back on the box, she noticed its contents.

EpiPens. As in plural.

Felicity stilled. With wide eyes, she picked one up and turned it over and over in her fingers. She noticed the production and expiry dates printed on the pen. Taking a closer look, she saw that the epinephrine auto-injector had only been produced recently, which meant it had been bought recently.

A fuzzy feeling bloomed in her chest and she stroked her fingers over the rest of the EpiPens in the box. She examined a few others and saw that two of the five had different production dates, meaning they were bought at different times. She knew that neither Diggle nor Oliver have any allergies. And considering the color of the box (Oliver really _did_ have a thing for green), she deduced that it was Oliver’s stash. For _her_.

Oliver was so damn protective that it got frustrating at times. He rarely consented to letting her tag along in the field, growled out about the dangers of the mission to her on a frequent basis, and always, no matter how their night had gone, either walked her to her Mini Cooper or asked Diggle or Roy to escort her out.

But this was different. The presence of the EpiPens indicated a far more complex protective instinct. Felicity was very careful not to ingest any nuts and the guys were careful about what to bring down to the foundry. Not only that, but Felicity always kept an EpiPen in her purse, even though she hadn’t had an incident in years. And yet Oliver still felt the need to have this many –  too many – backup EpiPens stashed around.

With an amused shake of her head, she put the medicine back in the box and gently secured the lid on top. She stood back up and placed the box in its original location, giving it one last fond pat before resuming her task.

That wasn’t the only time Felicity found EpiPens stashed around the foundry. Over the course of her time with Team Arrow, she found more and more in increasingly odd locations, including but not limited to: the back of the couch, behind some of the guns in the drawers, stuffed inside one of the training dummies, and the weirdest of them all, shoved in a tiny crack between the bricks in the back wall of the foundry.

She never broached the subject with Oliver, but every time she found one of those EpiPens, she felt _safe_.

\-----

Felicity was sitting by her computer station, typing away as she did some research on the newest baddie. Oliver was in the training area, sparring with Digg, and she had heard Roy wander in a little while earlier. She had barely spared a glance at him because she was so focused on her task.

However, she did turn around when she heard Roy address her.

“Hey Blondie, are you any closer to figuring out where McAdams is hiding out?”

Felicity spun around on her seat, turning to face the source of the sound. She saw Roy slouched on the couch in the corner, holding what looked like an unopened chocolate bar in his hand.

She shook her head. “He’s deep in hiding, but I’ll get him. He’s bound to make a mistake and when he does, I’ll get an instant alert,”

Roy nodded and started to unwrap his chocolate bar. “Cool. You’re gonna have to show me some of these awesome technical tricks one day,”

Felicity opened her mouth to reply, but before she could get a sound out, she suddenly saw Oliver march in from the training area over to Roy. He loomed over the younger man and snatched the chocolate bar straight out of Roy’s hand.

“Hey,” Roy’s indignant voice rang out.

Felicity stifled a laugh, wondering if Oliver was that desperate for a chocolate bar. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember the last time she saw Oliver eating _any_ candy.

Roy looked up at Oliver with accusing eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver growled out.

The red archer gaped up at his mentor, hand still suspended in midair where he had been holding the chocolate bar. “I _was_ about to eat that delicious bar of chocolate you are so rudely holding hostage,” Roy replied, sounding miffed.

Oliver looked scandalized. He sent a scathing look down at the chocolate bar in his hand then looked back up at Roy. “This is _snickers,_ ” he emphasized, sounding horrified.

Roy blinked up at him. “Yeees,” he responded slowly. “I know. It’s, like, my favorite chocolate,”

Felicity watched the scene unfold with fascinated eyes. She struggled to stifle her laughter. Behind them, she saw Digg leaning against a table with folded arms. His face showed barely concealed amusement.

Oliver shook his head at Roy and raised his arm up and away from the younger man when he tried to reach for his chocolate. “This has _nuts_ in it,” he insisted.

Realization dawned on Felicity on what this was about. A warm feeling bloomed in her chest and she had to tamp down the intense urge to run up to Oliver and give him a big ol’ teddy bear hug.

Roy blinked owlishly up at Oliver. “I _know_. Like I said, it’s my favorite chocolate. I’m pretty sure I already knew it had nuts in it, but thanks for pointing it out. Now, can I have my candy bar back?”

Oliver shook his head vehemently. “Never. Don’t you remember one of the first things I told you when I brought you into the foundry? Felicity is _allergic_ to nuts,”

Felicity saw Digg turn his head to look at her, eyebrow quirked. She sent him her most innocent look.

Roy too turned to glance at Felicity, before slowly standing up and facing Oliver head-on.

“I wasn’t going to, like, offer it to her!” he cried.

“No nuts down in the foundry!” Oliver announced.

“But it’s my favorite!” Roy whined.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “Will it be your favorite when Felicity has an allergic reaction and goes into anaphylactic shock?”

Felicity rolled her eyes. Oliver was taking this thing far too seriously. She had her allergy under control and she knew how to avoid anything with a nut component in it.

“I’m the one who’s going to be eating it, not her!” Roy exclaimed.

“No nuts!” Oliver countered.

Roy threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. “She won’t be exposed to it! It’s not like I’m going to kiss her or anything!”

Oliver narrowed his eyes and took a menacing step toward Roy. Felicity held her breath, watching the pair raptly and wondering if she would have to intervene.

Roy paled and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed nervously. The green archer stared him down, until the younger man buckled under the pressure.

“Okay, okay. No nuts,”

Satisfied, Oliver nodded and turned around to walk away, but not before chucking the innocent Snickers bar towards the waste basket in the corner, where it landed inside with a quiet thud.


	2. Overwatch, Meet The Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Felicity is a hacktivist vigilante and the Arrow just can't seem to leave her alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the previous drabble really warmed my heart and inspired me to write this next one.  
> Thanks to all who kudo-ed and commented! xoxo

There was nowhere Felicity Smoak felt more at home at than behind a keyboard. That was her _domain_. When she was facing a computer screen, fingers flying over a keyboard, she felt peaceful, separated from the outside world and cocooned inside a safe bubble of binary and code.

That was where she currently was, behind a glowing computer screen in an otherwise darkened room. The thing was… it wasn’t _her_ computer. And she wasn’t Felicity Smoak right now. She was Overwatch, the hacktivist other hackers talked about in hushed whispers because she was a goddamn _legend_ , thank you very much.

Felicity reached up to adjust the mask on her face, flashing back briefly to how she got it. She wasn’t the only vigilante in the area; she had run into a speedster who went by the codename _The Flash_ during one of her missions. They had immediately bonded over mutual nerdiness and some awkward flailing. Although they had never revealed their true identities to each other, they soon became fast friends and occasional allies.

_The Flash_ introduced her to his team; Cisco Ramon had helped fashion a better, more bad-ass suit and threw in a mask in there as well, so she would no longer have to use black grease paint over her eyes. Felicity had to give it to him: Cisco Ramon knew his stuff.

Felicity shook her head to focus back on her task. She was copying important, classified documents out of a drive inside the “top-secret” server of a major cooperation that dealt in weapons sales. She had to come on-site because their servers were offline, which meant she couldn’t access them remotely. Once these damning documents got out, the truth behind their operations and dealings would come out and everyone would know their true colors. This company was corrupt and sold guns to terrorists and child soldiers. And Felicity planned to stop them.

Suddenly, a shrill alarm blared out. Felicity’s head jerked up, startled at the sound.

“Shit,” she muttered, “shit shit shit. _Not good_ ,”

She glanced at the screen. Only 87% done. No no, she needed more time.

_How_ did the alarm get tripped up? She was _so_ careful.

89%... Felicity was _not_ going to abandon this mission. Exposing the company’s true dealings would help save lives, and she was not willing to give that up. Her mama didn’t raise her to be a quitter. _Thank you Donna Smoak_.

She could already hear sirens in the distance but, more worrying, she could hear the stomping of boots marching _very_ close to her location. She cursed profusely under her breath. She was out of time.

Out of nowhere, she heard a barely audible thud somewhere behind her. She whipped around and saw the silhouette of a large man with broad shoulders and a hood drawn over his face.

_The Arrow_.

Felicity groaned. She did _not_ have time for this. “What are _you_ doing here?” she demanded.

The Arrow moved closer to her. “I could ask you the same thing, Overwatch,”

Even with the voice modulator masking his true tenor, he managed to come across as menacing. But she rolled her eyes at his growly voice. The Arrow stopped scaring her after the third time they met. Underneath the leather and the scary-pointy arrows and the ‘ _You have failed this city’_ growl, he was a big teddy bear who just wanted to save his hometown.

But he still sometimes got on her nerves when he interfered with _her_ missions, even if he had good intentions.

“I’m working, in case that green hood of yours is obstructing your view too much,” she sassed.

She felt more than saw his sigh of exasperation as he came to stand beside her. He peered at the computer and then promptly shook his head. “There’s no time. We have to go,”

“We?” she objected. “There is no _we_. There is a me and a you,”

“Do _not_ start with that again, Overwatch,” he groaned.

She felt his hand lightly touch the small of her back. Even through her outfit and his leather glove, the heat of his hand seared her. In a very, very pleasant way.

“It’s at 93%. I’m not leaving until it’s completely copied,”

“Do you want to get caught?” he barked.

“I’m not leaving,” she insisted.

“Oh for God’s – ,” he cut himself off, and from his tone she could tell that he was scowling. “Get behind me,” he ordered.

Before she could move, he positioned himself in front of her, facing the entrance to the server room. He nocked an arrow to his bow and stood completely still, hyper-focused and waiting for anyone to enter. Felicity felt a little turned on.

She concentrated back on the screen. 95%. So close!

The door of the server room slammed against the wall as it was kicked open. Felicity resisted the urge to yelp – she had had to get used to sudden noises during her years as a hacktivist vigilante. It barely got to her anymore.

The Arrow reached out a hand behind him to push her down. She got the message and she dropped low, raising up her arms to protect her head. Felicity was not ashamed to admit that she was not a physical fighter. Her skills came from her brain and her fingers. Although she could throw a punch if she absolutely had to, it wasn’t her strong suit. She left the area of crime that required physical strength to other vigilantes, like the Arrow and The Flash.

Felicity heard the woosh of the vigilante’s arrows as he released them and winced when she noted the subsequent thump as bodies dropped to the ground. She briefly wondered which body area he had targeted. Recent news was blowing up with articles analyzing why the Arrow refused to kill anymore, instead shooting his arrows in non-lethal but equally incapacitating areas.

“Is it almost done?” he yelled at her while keeping his focus on the private army the CEO had hired to keep his secrets a secret. Felicity huffed. Why were evil genius masterminds so _paranoid_? It made her night job so much harder.

Felicity shook her errant thoughts away. The police were still on their way but these mercenaries were pouring in faster than the Arrow could keep up.

Felicity peered up from her crouch. She saw the monitor flashing _100%_. “Yes!” she cried, doing a celebratory fist pump. She paused and pointed at her hand with the other one. “Wow, I really do do that,” she commented.

“ _Overwatch_ ,” the Arrow growled and she got the message.

“Right, yes.” She jumped up and grabbed the flash drive containing all the incriminating files, not taking the time to eject it even though doing so hurt her soul a little bit. “Let’s go,” she yelled.

The Arrow released one last arrow before grabbing her hand and running towards the other end of the large room. They weaved in between big servers, using them as shields from the flying bullets.

“You got an escape route?” he questioned while dodging bullets.

“ _Do_ I have an escape route? _Of course_ I do. I’m not an amateur,”

He sent her a deadpanned look. How he managed to do that while running and wearing a mask was beyond her.

Felicity gave him a cheerful smile. “Right through there,” she answered him, pointing towards the other end of the room.

His grip tightened on her hand and they sped up.

It seemed like only seconds later when they burst out of the backdoor and ran across a long hallway leading to a back entrance. They sneaked out of that final barrier between them and freedom. Once outside in the cool night air, the pair immediately found the nearest alleyway to hide out in.

Felicity and the Arrow leaned against a brick wall, heaving in deep breaths.

“I think we lost them,” he grunted.

“See?” she replied cheekily, her own breaths labored. “There was plenty of time to get the files and run out,”

The Arrow straightened up and loomed over her. She could see the light scruff covering his chin and jaw and it made her want to _bite_. She tried to tamp down the errant thought because that was _so inappropriate_.

“Are you _crazy?_ ” he hissed.

Felicity blinked up at him. “Quite the opposite, actually,” she quipped.

“You would have been caught and _shot_ , dammit!”

“I had it under control!” she insisted.

The Arrow took a step closer to her, bringing his leather-clad body almost flush with hers. Felicity gulped.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he snapped.

“I’m trying to make a _difference_ ,”

“Which you won’t be able to do if you’re dead! You have to be more careful. What if next time I’m not there?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes and stepped even closer to the vigilante. Did he think she was a damsel in distress? She’s been doing this for _years_. She didn’t need his help to get out of a bad situation. Sure, she appreciated it every now and then. Yeah, she sometimes mused about what it would be like if she worked with a partner, someone she could rely on. But she did _not_ need rescuing.

“You know what I would have done?” she started in a dangerously low tone, the modulator she was using making her voice sound even madder. “I would have used these magic fingers,” she wiggled said fingers in his face, “and disabled the mercenaries’ security access so that they wouldn’t have been able to get through the door. If that hadn’t worked, I would have overridden the system and activated a security protocol that would self-destruct the minor servers, which would have created a small explosion that would have served as a distraction, giving me enough time to make my escape.”

Felicity heaved in big breaths after she was done from her rant.

“That said,” she continued, voice sharp before softening, “thank you for your help.”

The Arrow stilled and after a beat, nodded. “You don’t ever have to thank me,” he confessed, looking away.

Felicity felt warm all over. She didn’t know what this was, this thing between them. She didn’t know what it meant that her heart beat too fast when she saw him, that she lost her focus and all she wanted to do was lean just a little closer into his warmth. She didn’t know what it meant, but she never wanted those feelings to stop.

But those were musings for another day. She was tired and still had a lot of work to do before releasing the documents she procured out to the public.

Felicity patted the Arrow on the chest, taking a moment to enjoy the firmness beneath her fingers, before turning around and delving deeper into the alley.

“Until next time, Arrow,” she called out.

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard the faintest echo of the words floating behind her, _“I look forward to it, Overwatch.”_

\-----

Felicity’s relationship with the Arrow was complicated. It was a complex dance of growls, sass, embarrassing innuendos, and a mutual desire to save each other. They had crossed paths months ago when they were targeting the same asshole and from then on, they kept popping up in each other’s lives. Or more accurately, in each other’s night lives.

Felicity kept tabs on the Arrow and sometimes did some techy magic to get him out of jams whenever he needed. The Arrow materialized whenever she was in trouble, whenever her heart beat a little too fast because the threat of capture was imminent.

Somehow, she knew when he needed her and she never hesitated to help. And he… Well, he was so damn protective she sometimes wanted to clock him over the head for it. But at the same time, it warmed her heart and made her toes curl up in delight. It was a mutually beneficial situation, like vigilantes-with-benefits, except without the sexy times. Well, there were some sexy _moments_.

She wondered if she would recognize him if they passed by each other on the street in broad daylight. Would she identify those broad shoulders, those capable arms, that delicious scruff?

And what about him? Would he recognize her blonde hair? Would he know her from her penetrating gaze?

Felicity wasn’t sure. Although the two of them had grown closer over the past few months, they still only knew each other by their alter egos. She was too afraid to cross that line and he was too guarded to let her in.

What if the Arrow was only attracted to Overwatch, the badass hacktivist who didn’t blink before targeting a major cooperation? Overwatch, who wore leather and dark lipstick and wasn’t afraid of a little danger? What if he didn’t like Felicity Smoak, awkward, babbling IT girl?

It was too much of a risk. So they stayed the way they were, in a complex dance of sexual tension and pining eyes, with a healthy dose of mutual – and sometimes grudging – respect.

\-----

One day, Felicity passed by a blue-eyed billionaire outside on the curb by a Big Belly Burger. They walked past each other and, when their eyes clashed, Felicity’s heart jolted in recognition.

Neither of them stopped, but when they both walked in opposite directions, it was with serene smiles gracing their faces.

 


	3. No Questions Asked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Starling City's vigilante makes use of a certain IT girl's services (technical, of course).

It was eleven o’clock on a quiet Friday night when Felicity Smoak stepped out of a relaxing shower. She reached for a towel hanging on a hook by her shower stall and methodically dried herself before wrapping it around her body.

Felicity stepped up to her foggy mirror above her sink and wiped the glass with her hand, revealing her face reflected at her. She frowned at the mess of purple-blue-yellow staining her left upper arm; she would have to buy some salve for that to soothe the painful bruise. Shaking her head, Felicity took a moment to look at her face; her eyes were bright yet tired, a result of a hectic week at Queen Consolidated where she had to more or less single-handedly rewrite the company’s firewall after a series of attempted hacks.

Felicity sighed. She had gotten the job done, no thanks to her useless manager. Why they insisted on burdening her with him when he did nothing but laze around and delegate tasks he was too incompetent to handle, she had no idea. She scowled at the injustice of it.

Focusing back on her reflection, she smiled at herself. Despite the stress at work, she was in a pretty good place in her life. She was comfortable and content. Perhaps not quite fulfilled – no, she still had so much more she wanted to achieve in life – but she liked to believe she was getting there.

Just as she gathered her wet hair in one hand and put it over one shoulder, she heard a faint shuffling sound emanating from outside the bathroom. She frowned and creeped quietly to the door, carefully turning the knob and wincing when the door creaked as she cracked it open a sliver. Felicity held her breath and strained her ear. Just as she was about to give up, thinking she must have imagined it, she heard what sounded like the quiet strain of leather against skin.

Felicity’s spine straightened and she smiled, all the worry leaving her body. One of the reasons she felt she was in a good place in her life right now was due to the person waiting for her in her living room.

“Just a second!” she called out.

She opened her bathroom door wider and hurried to her bedroom across from her, thankful that the sheer curtain she had put up on the archway separating her living area from her bedroom and bathroom shielded her towel-clad body from view.

Once in the bedroom, she gently closed the door and hurried to her closet. Grabbing a bra and panties, she shimmied into the matching forest green set. She picked up a hair brush from her dresser and ran it through her strands, untangling her hair before quickly knotting it into a braid. Felicity walked back to her closet and quickly chose yoga pants and an old MIT t-shirt.

Once she was presentable, Felicity headed to her bedroom door and placed her hand on the knob. The cool metal soothed her heated skin and allowed her to take her first full breath since she registered who was waiting for her. It had been less than five minutes but to her over-excited self, it felt triple that time.

Felicity finally turned the knob and stepped out. She moved towards the archway and pushed aside the sheer material before striding out into her living room with a smile on her face. The room was dark, the only source of light a low lamp in the corner and the faint glow of moonlight slanting in from the window.

“Hey,” she greeted in a soft voice.

The shadowed figure standing diligently by the window – no doubt his point of entry – turned around at her voice. The green hood was pulled low over his face, leaving only a faint hint of the man’s stubbled jaw on display. Felicity swallowed and stepped further into the room but stopped a safe distance away, aware he didn’t like to get too close.

“Hello, Miss Smoak,” the archer replied, the voice modulator he always used deepening his voice further. He held out a gloved hand and she saw a small, silver flash drive resting on his palm. “I need your help.”

\-----

Felicity was first approached by the Arrow almost two months ago while she was working at Queen Consolidated. It was late and she was the only employee left on her floor. She had been unhappily tapping away at her keyboard – stupid reports for her stupid manager – when suddenly all the lights went out and she heard a quiet thud behind her. She stiffened then slowly turned around, red pen still dangling from her mouth, only to be greeted by the glorious sight of muscles encased in tight leather.

Only after taking a moment to appreciate the tall figure – his outline clear even in the darkness of the office – did Felicity realize she was all alone with Starling City’s personal vigilante.

She squeaked but remained seated, her fight or flight instincts abandoning her and instead replaced with plain ol’ _freeze_. The pen that was in her mouth dropped to the floor as her jaw went slack.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the hooded vigilante announced, a voice modulator obscuring his true voice.

Felicity cocked her head at him, doubt emanating from every pore in her body.

“Well, you’re here in my office – not _my office_ , my office, because I only have this tiny desk and well I don’t own the building, the Queens do – but here in my space and I’m alone and it’s dark and you’re holding a scary bow so… you know. Not giving a lot of _hugs and kisses_ vibe,” she rambled, nerves clear in her voice.

Felicity paused for a moment and then her eyes widened. “Not that I want you to kiss me!” she blurted out and blushed a deep red, hoping the lack of light would mask her tomato face. Her mouth continued to move without her permission. “Er, I’m sure you’re very kissable and cuddling with you will feel like cuddling with a giant, muscly, teddy bear but… we… don’t know each other so…” She was horrified at herself but could not stop, “No kissing.”

The vigilante looked at her for a long moment – at least, she thought he was looking at her. It was hard to tell with the hood covering most of his face, but he _was_ facing her direction so she deduced he was, in fact, looking at her.

Then he stepped forward and raised his bow, which up until then had been resting by his side. Felicity’s eyes widened even further behind her glasses as she thought, _Omigosh, have I failed this city?_ Then the Arrow surprised her by lowering his bow to rest an empty table a few feet away from her desk and letting go of it, returning his arm by his side sans-bow.

Felicity blinked.

“Like I said, I’m not here to hurt you,” the vigilante repeated. “Or kiss you,” he continued, a smirk evident in his tone.

Felicity went beet-red again.

“Right,” she muttered, sliding her glasses up her nose.

“Miss Smoak, I –”

“How do you know my name?” she interrupted, sitting up straighter.

She could see his mouth still open before he closed it with a frown, probably at not being allowed to finish. Felicity almost gave him a sympathetic look – it _was_ hard to get a word in edgewise with her.

“I do my homework,” he replied simply.

That little tidbit of information did _not_ comfort the IT girl. She hoped he hadn’t found any embarrassing photos of her from her goth phase in college.

The hooded figure cleared his throat and Felicity snapped back to attention. “As I was saying,” he continued. “I need your help, Miss Smoak.”

Felicity stilled. “My help?”

He nodded and stepped closer, revealing a sleek black laptop that had been hidden behind his back. Felicity immediately stood up and reached for it.

“What did you _do_ to it?” she exclaimed, horrified.

Her fingers traced the obvious bullet holes riddling the laptop and her soul wept at the destruction of such a fine piece of technology.

“It wasn’t me,” he replied, a somewhat indignant tone in his voice.

Felicity glared up at him. “Whoever did it must pay,” she muttered, still stroking the laptop’s now-rough surface.

“That’s what I intend to do,” came the Arrow’s low response.

Felicity stilled and stopped caressing the black laptop.

“Can you help me?”

Felicity nodded. She _could_. She was capable enough to get whatever information he wanted off the device. Why else would he be in the IT department at 9 o’clock in the evening, talking to an IT specialist.

The vigilante looked at her for a long moment and, after a beat, asked, “Will you?”

Felicity’s heart thundered in her chest. Emotions warred against each other inside her, making her hands tremble slightly and her teeth to worry her lower lip. This felt like one of those _before_ and _after_ moments. Her life before the vigilante stepped into it and her office, asking for her help, and her life after.

The after part was what gave her pause. She had mapped out her life, appointed goals to achieve in the next few years. She wanted to get her PhD and maybe head her own division someday. Applied Sciences sounded cool. Maybe she would meet someone along the way, someone who could love her and accept her quirks and even _like_ them. That was her plan. To live and be happy.

But she wasn’t happy. Something was missing in her life, some sort of need that nothing could fulfill. Felicity looked at the vigilante in front of her, a man who had appeared out of nowhere a few months prior and proceeded to risk his life night after night to protect the city from people who would do it harm – despite what the police said, the Arrow _was_ helping Starling City. She looked at him and saw hope.

Felicity blinked as her heart slowed down, steadying in a calm she had not felt in a long time. The vigilante’s question echoed in her ear, _Will you?_

“Yes,” she spoke out, the conviction in her voice ringing in the quiet of the office.

\-----

Snapping back to the present, Felicity rolled her eyes at the vigilante as she walked closer to him and allowed him to drop the flash drive into her waiting hand. She was careful to avert her face, lest he think she was trying to sneak a peek under his hood. “I’ve told you dozens of time to call me Felicity.”

He didn’t reply, just rotated his wrist to deposit the drive into her palm. Felicity suppressed a shiver at the sensation of the cool leather brushing her skin.

She muttered a quiet _thank you_ and turned around to plop down on her couch. She grabbed her laptop from the coffee table in front of her and powered it up. It only took a few seconds, thanks to the few tweaks she made to the hardware. Plugging the flash into the appropriate port, Felicity’s eyebrows raised at the sight of the heavy firewall that popped up, preventing her from accessing the files.

She felt the Arrow move behind her, the heat of his body enveloping hers and causing goose-bumps to break out on her skin. She almost shivered.

“Can you break the encryption?”

Felicity snorted. “You still doubt my abilities?”

She meant it as a rhetorical question but was pleasantly surprised when he laid a gloved hand on her shoulder. “Not at all.”

Felicity smiled to herself, grateful he couldn’t see her face. “It’ll take around an hour, maybe a little less.”

The IT girl felt the Arrow move from behind her and she glanced up, seeing him head back towards the window. He leaned against the windowsill, face directed at the world outside, as if he were scanning for any potential threats.

“I’ll wait.”

Felicity nodded to herself, a warmth blooming in her chest and a tiny tendril of _something_ unfurling inside her. She took a moment to bask in it before she shook her head, chastising herself for her errant thoughts and instead focused on the task at hand.

\-----

Forty-three minutes later, Felicity’s hand pumped the air as she let out an excited “Yes!” She grinned triumphantly and turned to look at the Arrow.

“I did it!” she announced happily.

“I can see that,” he quipped, a rare amusement shining through his voice.

“Let me just eject it and I’ll give it to you so you can view them in private later. All the files should be accessible now and shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

As she ejected the flash drive the vigilante moved closer to her, until he was less than two feet away from her position on the couch.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you,” she declared, handing the small piece of technology to him. Her eyes widened with horror. “Not pleasure, like, erm, _pleasure_. And it’s not business because it’s not like you’re paying me or anything. Not that I want you to pay me!” Why wouldn’t her mouth just _stay shut_ for _once_? “I’m er, happy to do it,” she concluded in a weak voice.

The vigilante crossed his arms, the air he was giving off full of amusement. At her expense, of course.

“Good to know,” he grinned.

Felicity’s tummy did a somersault. His grins were rare and all the more precious for it.

One moment he was smiling, amused at her babbles, and the next his body went rigid, sparks of anger almost flying off of him.

Felicity stood up, which coincidentally brought her body closer to his. “What’s wrong?” she asked in concern.

But the Arrow wasn’t looking at her. No, his face was directed at a lower part of her. Specifically, her upper arm, exposed further by her t-shirt riding up when she had reached up to give him the flash drive.

But he wasn’t just looking at her arm. No, he was laser-focused on the ugly, multi-colored bruise there.

Uh-oh.

“Oh, that?” she laughed nervously, tugging the t-shirt lower to cover the bruise. “I bumped into a door. I’m clumsy, you know that.”

He was silent for a few tense seconds, as if giving her a chance to tell the truth. Felicity gulped but for once kept her mouth shut.

“That’s a handprint,” he growled, the voice modulator making it ten times more menacing.

But Felicity didn’t feel any fear, like any logical person would. Instead she shivered as warmth coursed through her veins.

“Right,” she chuckled awkwardly but said nothing else.

“Miss Smoak,” he growled again.

Felicity rolled her eyes at his formality and gave in. “Okay, okay. It’s totally nothing and not a big deal.”

The vigilante crossed his arms, the leather creaking under the strain of muscles.

Felicity swallowed hard.

“Tell me,” he implored.

She stayed quiet, her heart gaining speed the longer he looked at her like that.

He spoke again, his voice a quiet whisper that screamed of sincerity even through the modulator. “Please.”

That did her in. Felicity’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she opened them again. Although she couldn’t see the man’s face or eyes, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was 100% focused on her.

“It was from an attempted mugging. This thug thought he could steal from me – what, just because I’m blonde and tiny? Nuh-uh mister – but I showed him.”

The vigilante’s lips quirked. “Showed him?”

Felicity nodded proudly. “I kicked him where the sun don’t shine and ran. In three inch heels, no less.”

“And the bruise?” he prompted.

Felicity waved a hand in the air as it to dismiss it. “That’s from when he first grabbed me.”

She heard more than saw the Arrow’s jaw clench. He dropped his arms by his side, curling his hands into fists as he half-turned away from her. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath before turning back to face her.

“Anything like that happens again, I want you to _call me_ ,” he ordered.

Felicity’s heart grew twice its size at the sentiment behind his not-so-much-of-a-request. She smiled gently at him, before bravely reaching out to squeeze his arm. The firm muscles beneath her fingers relaxed slightly at her touch.

“Thank you, but that really isn’t necessary.”

“I insist.”

They had a stare-down – eyes to hood style – before Felicity looked to the side, blushing.

“I don’t want to distract you from your vigilante-ing. And, well, I don’t have your number, so…” she trailed off, before realizing how that sounded. “Not that I’m like, asking for your number! I’m totally not, what even would I do with it? You can keep it and give it to gorgeous women who would do something with it. Unlike me!” she exclaimed.

Her mind replayed everything she had just said and then she groaned, dropped her face into her palm. “Everything I say just comes out _wrong_.”

Her head snapped back up when she heard the vigilante give out a low, throaty chuckle. Her heart ran a marathon in her chest – she had never heard him laugh before.

“Felicity.”

The IT girl’s eyes widened. That was the first time he had ever uttered her name. She liked the way it sounded coming from his lips. Swallowing hard, she pushed loose strands of her hair out of her eyes and cocked her head in question.

“You’re not asking for my number. I’m offering it.”

He stepped away from her and bent to grab what looked like a paper out of the notepad she always kept on her coffee table. His gloved hand found a pen and she heard the faint sounds of the scratch of pen-on-paper. Felicity took a moment to appreciate his leather-clad butt before he turned around and she had to pretend she wasn’t checking him out.

The vigilante didn’t let on that he had caught her – which he totally had. He just held out the slip of paper towards her.

Felicity’s hand extended to grasp it, her fingers brushing against the paper; yet she didn’t take it.

“I’d rather not have this,” she confessed in a whisper.

She felt him jolt back in shock. “What? Why the hell not?” he demanded.

Felicity shook her head. “I appreciate the sentiment, really. It’s just that… With that number, I could trace your location and very likely discover your true identity.” Felicity kept a steady gaze at the Arrow, hoping he would realize how much she cared about him and his mission – how much she loved that she was somehow a part of it, even with the little she did for him – with her frank words. “I’d say I can resist the temptation but…” She shrugged. “I can easily find out who you are. I don’t want to do that to you.”

The Arrow was silent for a long moment, but his arm remained extended towards her, the seemingly-innocent slip of paper resting in the palm of his hand.

Finally, he inclined his head and stretched out his arm even further towards her. “Take it. I want you to have it.”

In shock, Felicity finally accepted the paper with his number scribbled on it. The archer dropped his arm and she did the same, curling her fingers protectively over the piece of paper.

“Are you sure?” she stressed. “I won’t be offended if you take it back. I’d understand.”

He shook his head, the hood only shifting slightly at the movement. “Keep it.”

Felicity sucked in a breath. “You know you’re expecting the impossible, right? You’re practically asking a hacker not to hack,” she quipped, but despite the humor in her tone, she was completely serious.

The moonlight slanting in through the window shined brighter, casting an ethereal glow around the pair. The Arrow looked intently at Felicity and, for a moment, she could have sworn she saw the soft glint of his eyes focused on her.

“I’m not asking anything,” the vigilante replied, his voice low and intimate.

Felicity stilled, heart thumping so hard against her ribcage it was as if it was begging to be released. The IT girl had a pretty good idea of where her heart wanted to go, and it was right into the arms of a certain leather-clad archer.

He wasn’t just saying to take his number and call him if she was ever in trouble. He wasn’t even asking her to do him the courtesy of _not_ hacking her way to uncovering his identity. No, the Arrow was saying something else entirely.

He was telling her he trusted her.

Felicity smiled so wide her cheeks hurt, but she barely felt the pain. She was too happy to care. “Thank you,” she breathed.

The Arrow slowly shook his head and leaned closer to her, raising his arm to gently cup her shoulder. Felicity eyes fluttered closed at the comforting weight.

“You don’t ever have to thank me, Felicity.”

A moment later, Felicity felt the air shift around her. She opened her eyes, seeing only empty space in front of her and feeling the wind coming in from the open window caress her bare arms.

The Arrow had left, but she wasn’t alone.

Felicity looked at the slip of paper in her hand, once again curling her fingers protectively around it. No, she wasn’t alone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me a line, make me smile ;)


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